Jason Tangi
BRANCH OF SERVICE: United States Army
TIME SERVED IN IRAQ: 1 year, 6 months
UNIT: 3rd Infantry Division
HOMETOWN: Berea, Ohio
HIGH SCHOOL: Berea High School '96
Just six months after graduating from Basic Training at Fort Benning, Army specialist Jason Tangi was still trying to adjust to life at Fort Stewart in southeastern Georgia. So consumed in the renovation of the house he had secured for himself and his girlfriend back home, Tangi was not yet privy to the mutterings around the post about a potential pending deployment to Kuwait for some kind of training mission.
In classic military style, the next two weeks were spent preparing for the “training mission.” Exhausting days, which began at six in the morning and sometimes stretched until midnight.
Jason barely spent any time with the girlfriend he had relocated from familiar surroundings to a world of unknowns.
The members of the 3rd Infantry Division were granted one precious down day before shipping out with a destination of Kuwait for a “30-day training mission.” It was mid January, 2003.
As mid-January became late-February, it became clear the alleged “30-day training” was going to run a tad long. Days were long, repetitive and boring. Jason remembers cleaning his weapon more times than he could count. Equipment was checked, rechecked and rechecked once more.
The only escape the soldiers could find was hanging out on the back of large cargo trucks. It was the only escape from the monotony; hanging out with your buddies, telling stories, smoking cigars. One night as the guys were trading stories they noticed something emerging from the Kuwaiti desert that appeared to be heading towards them.
“We were sitting on the back of the truck telling stories when all of the sudden we see headlights – and I mean miles of headlights,” Tangi recalled. “Suddenly we see [semi-trailer trucks] filled with ammunition, rockets, Bradley fighting vehicles and TOWs (anti-tank guided missiles) as far as the eye can see.”
It was instantly apparent to all there was something going on that extended beyond a “routine training mission.”
“The next day we woke up and we combat loaded,” Tangi said. “The Bradleys were stocked with enough ammo for four days of constant battle.”
“[Leadership] told us ‘this is the best training we can give you to be combat-ready.’,” he said. “You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know what was going on.”
“You could see on the faces of the senior [non-commissioned officers], they had never had this kind of training before,” Tangi added.
The first week of March the commander ordered the soldiers in Tangi’s unit into formation to inform them of plans to “sit on the Iraqi border.” All munitions and equipment were cleaned and checked one final time and chemical agent antidote auto-injectors were distributed.
Morale was mixed among the soldiers of 3/7 Infantry. “Some guys were like ‘whatever’; you had the gung-ho types [eager] to go, then you had other guys saying ‘oh man I didn’t sign up for this,’” Tangi said.
“Personally I was confused,” he added. “I thought about the war I’ve seen on TV and in movies and I felt, ‘Holy shit, am I ready for this?’”
On March 16 the soldiers put on the thick layers that make up the chemical warfare suit. They would not take them off again for 30 days. On March 18, the unit was called together once again to discuss plans. As a captain went over specific movements and objectives, the big picture remained ambiguous to many of the troops.
“Finally somebody asked, ‘Are we going to war?’” Tangi said. “I’ll never forget the captain’s response, ‘Please don’t make me have to actually say it, here is the Iraqi border and here is where we are going – do you understand.”
Nobody had any further questions.
Crossing the Iraqi border
One of the first things Tangi’s unit encountered after entering Iraqi territory was an abandoned NATO facility which had sustained significant damage from some type of explosion.
“My first thought was, ‘That’s NATO, why is this building all shot up?” he recalled. “It could have been abandoned for years, maybe even since the Gulf War, but I saw that and thought, ‘Aw hell, we’re really going to war.’”
Tangi described the next eight days as the most miserable of the war. The division drove continuously for eight days straight, stopping only a couple hours at a time to allow troops to relieve themselves and grab an MRE (Meal Ready to Eat) and some water.
The convoy of large military vehicles traveled at a high rate of speed with no lights as to avoid alerting any insurgents of their presence. Night vision goggles allowed drivers to see the vehicles ahead in the convoy; however several factors made visibility a major challenge.
“There was a lot of sand kicking up so you could barely see and you never really knew where you were,” Tangi explained. “Many people think the desert is completely flat, but there were a lot of cliffs and overhangs [in the terrain].”
As a result, several vehicles went over cliffs and got stuck or rolled over completely. Along the way the division encountered some resistance, but none that required the troops to get out of the vehicles.
“The Bradleys just unloaded,” Tangi recalled. “When those Bradleys open up you’re talking about hell coming down on [the enemy] – nothing is left moving on the other side.”
Karbala Gap – first combat
It was called the “last steppingstone into Baghdad” in a March 28, 2003 New York Times article. The Karbala Gap, a 20-25 mile-wide stretch of land between the Euphrates River and Razzaza Lake; and about 50 miles south of Baghdad, was a key strategic position in the war.
If the Iraqi forces failed to defend the area, it would essentially open completely the route to the capital for advancing coalition forces.
Given the significance of the Karbala Gap, Tangi’s unit predictably expected the potential for strong resistance from the Iraqi Republican Guard.
“This was going to be our big battle because the enemy knew if we passed through the Gap it was a big push towards Baghdad,” he explained.
Once the division reached a point about 20 miles outside Karbala, they stopped to receive some assistance from their friends in the sky. As soldiers watched from truck tops, U.S. Air Force fighter planes soared overhead filling the once-quiet desert night with thunderous roars.
While taking fire from anti-aircraft artillery, precision U.S. bombing strikes began to knock out power grids and enemy resources; paving the way for the ground troops. (According to Tangi, the air strikes were preceded by thousands of leaflets warning civilians a few days prior of the exact date and time the bombings would occur. The Air Force took every precaution to minimize civilian casualties.)
From his vantage point, Tangi remained in awe of the spectacular visual taking place in Karbala. Little by little sections of the city’s lights were eliminated and ground fire ceased. It was nearly early morning hours when the Air Force had accomplished its mission and succeeded in darkening the entire city.
“Seconds after the last set of lights went out we heard ‘Let’s move in,’ and we were in our vehicles and rolling,” he said.
As the convoy entered the city, it was met with an eerie calmness. The mission was to find the enemy and eliminate them to allow subsequent units to pass through en route to Baghdad. It seemed finding the enemy might be the more challenging task.
The Bradleys moved slowly attempting to bait any Republican Guard members hiding in the city. Finally, the Bradley Tangi was riding in stopped. He heard the humming of the mechanical rear door as it began to open; ready or not his first taste of combat was imminent.
Growing up in Berea, Jason Tangi was known as an exceptional athlete. However, no pregame jitters experienced while playing football for Berea High or taking the mound as a pitcher for Hiram College compared to the anxiousness he was experiencing watching the Bradley door open, releasing him into the great unknown that is the battlefield.
“As a team lead I was always the first one out,” he said. “So you just haul ass out of there and find the nearest cover.”
It was there Jason would first experience enemy bullets whizzing passed his head. There are three distinct sounds bullets make travelling passed your head.
“If it makes a swoosh sound, its not even close.” Tangi explained. “If it goes passed with a whistle, kinda close; but if you hear it tumbling - that means get your ass down it was real close.”
Thanks largely in part to thousands of leaflets dropped by the Air Force warning Iraqi civilians of imminent airstrikes, most of Karbala was empty and quiet. Once the city was secured, Tangi and his fellow troops were granted a day and a half to relax and catch their collective breath.
“It was a chance for supplies to catch up to us bringing more MREs, water and ammo,” he said. “It was almost like a party, we didn’t have anyone within miles of us and air support everywhere – we were all going to just chill.”
Unfortunately, just six hours into the breather the unit received radio transmissions about the Iraqi Republican Guard holding the Euphrates River.
“Next thing I know I was back in that Bradley hauling ass,” Tangi said.
“Hauling ass” in a Bradley in the Iraqi desert means traveling about 40-45 miles per hour. According to Tangi, riding in one of the bulky vehicles at such speeds “feels like you are sitting in a dryer.” He also likened the experience to riding in a school bus doing 90 mph over impossibly bumpy terrain.
The frantic trip, it turned out, was all for naught as the Republican Guard had abandoned their posts in such haste their uniforms remained in their bunkers.
“We later found out the Iraqi troops were being held in their positions basically at gun point by their superiors,” Tangi said. “The superiors took off, however, as we started to get close and once that happened the rest of the troops took off their uniforms and ran.”
Wearing civilian attire, the fleeing members of the Republican Guard were able to integrate themselves into the general populace and avoid capture or death.
On to Baghdad
After passing the Euphrates River, the trip to the Iraqi capital was relatively uneventful. In desperation, Iraqi leadership was making comical attempts to conceal the progress of the U.S. military towards Baghdad. Upon arrival, however, Tangi’s unit decided to leave no doubt in any Iraqi mind.
“We basically made a statement by driving right through the middle of the city and drove around in a circle to let them know we were there,” he said.
Although Jason had seen the last of the major firefighting, the remaining time spent in Baghdad would prove to be the most challenging time of his life. With two infantry companies as well as two support companies crammed into tight living quarters, personal space became and unattainable fantasy.
They unit continued to conduct missions, kicking in doors and eliminating the enemy when they could be found. But a return to the makeshift living quarters was hardly a chance to unwind and relax.
Troops were forbidden to leave the perimeter and there were no adequate latrine facilities. Many soldiers, Tangi included, battled bouts of dysentery.
“I lost about 20 pounds in a few weeks,” he recalled. “It was the worst thing I ever went through in my life, it was downright miserable.”
In addition to health concerns, missions were conducted during all hours of day or night. Sleep was difficult and obtained in small increments.
“Outside of the pride of serving your country, there are no rewards for being in a war zone,” Tangi said.
In His Own Words…
Camaraderie:
There were certain guys that are just non-stop funny, doing crazy things to keep us entertained. I remember a few guys built a basketball hoop and found a half-deflated ball and they would play Horse; that was what they did for fun.
One of my buddies came outside in his flak vest, helmet, boots; and nothing else. He was butt-naked running around grabbing the “basketball.” The sergeant was chasing after him yelling to put clothes on so he turned around and tried to hug the sergeant. Now the sergeant was the one running away.
We told a lot of stories. Those guys know everything about me, every crazy thing I’ve done. You talk about girls, the things you did in college, sports, brag about your athletic accomplishments and the biggest thing – the first thing you were going to do when you got home.
Contact with loved ones:
We went into Iraq March 18. The first time I got to talk to someone back home was late-May. It was basically “hey I just want to let you know I’m alive and tell everyone I love them.” We had two minutes to talk. Later on we would get to talk for five minutes, once every three weeks. You really had to keep on that because the next guy was waiting right behind you.
We had to stand on top of the building with guards around us so we wouldn’t get picked off by a sniper. We had this big-ass thing with a huge antenna on it to talk on. Because there was such a delay, you had to instruct your loved ones to limit their talking, so it was basically a one-way conversation letting them know you are still alive.
Going home:
When they told us in late-August we were going home, nobody believed it. We packed up all our stuff and started moving. We kept moving until we got to Kuwait. Once we crossed the Kuwaiti border it was like, “holy shit we’re goin’ home!”
We were in Kuwait for about a week and a half. During that time we got to go to the PX, I had Burger King, holy cow did it taste good. I’ll never forget ordering three Whoppers with cheese, a large fry and a large coke; and I ate it all – and I shit my brains out all night. It just went right through me, but it was worth it.
When we got on the plane to go home it was pretty much chaos, everybody was so pumped up and excited. We got to call our families from Germany and let them know we were coming home.
Talking to my dad was kind of emotional because he was also infantry and did two tours in Vietnam. The whole time I was gone he was picturing me going to Vietnam. He wasn’t aware of the advances in technology we had at our disposal. He was always really paranoid when I knew it wasn’t as bad as he thought, but I couldn’t get that across to him. When I called him and told him I was home in the States, I could hear him start to cry a little bit.
Once we arrived in Savannah, a large gathering of family and friends were waiting in a parade field. We got in formation and marched to them. It was unbelievable how good it felt to be home. I didn’t know whether to cry or dance or hoot and holler.
The only thing I wanted to do was go home and sit and not hear anything. I went home, sat on my couch with Zeus, my chocolate lab, next to me and sat there for like an hour and listened to nothing – it was the first time I was all alone in eight months.
Over there you feel alone inside but there is always someone around you. You are always doing something, hearing something, getting yelled at.
Finally after about an hour and a half I got up, looked at my girlfriend and said, “Let’s order pizza.”
Historical context:
Sometimes when I watch the news I think, ‘Holy shit, I was in one of the first companies to enter Baghdad, we circled the city to prove a point we were there.’ I’m very proud that I was there and that I served.
Once we started training new guys to the company and we started getting those gung-ho ‘I just want to be over there’ types, I would tell them, ‘just be careful what you wish for, it is not what you think it’s going to be.’ No matter what you prepare for or how you prepare, nobody knows what it is going to be like until they are there.
Changed life outlook:
One of the most significant things I brought home with me was a new perspective on life. You hear all the time to ‘live life to the fullest” from lots of people. I’ve heard it my whole life and I always thought, ‘Alright, but you don’t have to get up early for work and go to four meetings tomorrow so shut up.’ Since Iraq, it is nice to wake up in the morning and think, ’I have to go to work, but I get to relax and drink a beer tonight, I get to watch the Indians play tonight; it’s going to be a great day.’ I have a whole new outlook on life, I’m so happy. I really am.
Aftermath
The unfortunate reality of soldiers who survive war is dealing with the painful memories of friends and comrades who did not come home. Tangi often thinks about fellow Ohioan, Pfc. Marlin Rockhold, who was killed by sniper fire while directing traffic in Baghdad. Not only assigned to the same unit, but Tangi and Rockhold went through basic training together.
He would not allow his story to be printed without mention of his fallen friend.
Less than two years after his deployment, Tangi would serve another 12 months in Iraq, this time as a sergeant. Although this time he would see far less action on the battlefield, he discovered an oversight that ultimately saved the U.S. military thousand of dollars. For his actions he was awarded the Bronze Star.
Jason admits he joined the Army to pay off his student loans. “They threw $20,000 at me and I figured, four years I’m in, I’m out; what could go wrong,” he said laughing. “Twenty-one months in Iraq and I guess I paid for that college diploma.”
Tangi separated from the Army after serving his four-year commitment. He now lives in North Olmsted, Oh and works as a sales manager. When reflecting on his time in the war, he does not hesitate to put the experience in perspective. ‘Like my dad said about Vietnam, it is something I would never want to do again, but something I’m extremely proud of,’ he said.
